


Truth or Dare

by edibleflowers



Series: Only God Knows Why [3]
Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M, Truth or Dare, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:11:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drinking and truth or dare do not go together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth or Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this one is all slashy. Oh, also, this happens before "Rules".

Justin still remembered the first time he went down on JC. It was in Kansas somewhere, on their first big tour. They'd all gotten terrifically drunk on champagne for some reason -- the reason lost to history; maybe Joey had been the one to purchase several bottles for the night. Didn't matter; the game of Truth or Dare had been getting raunchier with each round, and Kris and Joey had disappeared rather abruptly after some dare she'd whispered to him.

So it had been down to him, Chris, and Lance -- who was practically nodding off, gone sleepy-drunk -- and JC. JC, whom Justin had worshiped for years on the set of MMC. Whom Justin had tagged after, hung out with him, hanging on every word, thinking that JC was the coolest person in the world; only later realizing that his actions showed more of a nascent crush on JC than he'd ever realized. A few less-trashed Truths back, JC had admitted that he'd kissed guys before, even made out with them to the point of feeling up. Finally, in the funky fog of his remaining sobriety, Justin had challenged JC to let Justin go down on him. And JC had smilingly accepted the challenge.

Justin wondered, later, if his fumbling make-out sessions with Lance were an attempt to compensate for -- well, for something. JC had been screwing Kristin, although no-one ever said anything about exclusivity there. Not after Joey joined in, to be sure. But Justin had thought that maybe JC wasn't interested in him, or just in guys. Turned out, they found during that game of Truth or Dare, that JC didn't have any preference about which gender of person was sucking his dick, as long as they were good.

That was what had prompted Justin to make his challenge. Chris disagreed with JC, pointing out, "There's no such thing as a bad blowjob." JC laughed, shaking his head, and Justin blurted out the dare before he could get too nervous about it. And the next thing he knew, JC was inviting him to go ahead, if he really wanted to.

So he did, right there in front of Chris and drowsy Lance. He knew he'd probably chicken out if they were alone, but Chris's presence was a dare, egging him on. Would he do it? And he did, unzipping JC's pants, sliding an eager and trembling hand inside to feel the soft warmth, kinky hair--

JC had laughed, champagne-bubbly and sweet, and had taken him in hand, as it were -- telling him what to do, when to do it. And even when Justin got overeager and sloppy and practically choked himself deep-throating JC, the older boy was patient throughout. The noises JC made -- the little grunts, faint moans, erotic wordless sounds -- were enough to get Justin throbbing and stiff in his own jeans. And the sound of fabric rustling behind him, while he bobbed his head on JC's dick -- he couldn't look, didn't want to, but somehow he knew that it was turning Chris on, and that got him even more excited. Especially when he heard the faint "Jesus" from behind him. _I'm getting both of them off_.

JC's cock had felt so alien, lewd, in his mouth, that first time -- yet how quickly it became perfectly normal and familiar. The hiss of JC's breath, the deep musky smell, the smooth heat of his dick and soft scrotum: everything seemed to impact on his flooded senses, how he could hear Chris's hand moving almost dreamily, and the room getting hotter with every passing second.

It didn't take long for JC to come, maybe because he was drunk or perhaps in spite of it. His hips bucked up from the carpet, pushing his cock into Justin's mouth -- Justin winced as JC's hands tugged at his hair -- his own erection straining, painfully stiff, at his jeans -- Chris's panting and the quiet noise of fist on flesh, and JC groaning Justin's name--

That nearly made Justin cream his jeans, the way JC moaned, "Oh, God -- God, Justin, gonna--" But he fought it as JC came in his mouth, and he swallowed, gagging on the sudden salty spurts. He released JC at last, kneeling back to wipe his mouth, flushed and dizzy.

For a moment, the room was silent. Justin looked up at JC. The other boy looked dazed, a bit shaken; then he smiled, flicking a glance to Chris.

"Now that was a good blowjob."

Justin felt his face heat up. He stayed where he was as Chris -- apparently done, if only for the moment -- got up and woke Lance. Lance had fallen asleep on the floor, and his mouth was open; he looked innocent in slumber. Chris winked at Justin as he shouldered Lance from the room.

The door clicked behind them, leaving JC and Justin alone. Justin rocked back on his heels, stood, feeling awkward with the taste of JC's come still in his mouth. "Uh, I should go, get some sleep," he had started to say.

JC nodded, lazily getting to his feet. "You don't have to go," he said.

Justin narrowed his eyes, confused. He didn't move, and then he couldn't -- froze in place when JC began to strip off his clothes. First his own, and then he took the two steps separating them and reached for Justin's shirt.

"W-wait," Justin said, batting at JC's hands, because this all seemed to be happening a lot faster than he had thought it would.

"It's your turn," JC replied sensibly. Justin's brain experienced a localized meltdown. He let JC undress him, then followed him to the bed, allowed JC to tug him down once the covers were pulled back. Part of him was still astonished at the fact that he was naked in a room with JC. Who was also naked. Who was touching him.

JC tucked himself behind Justin, like a pair of spoons. When Justin started to roll over, wanting to see JC's face, JC licked his neck. Justin obediently stayed where he was. JC's hands were slow and languid, exploratory, tracing patterns over Justin's skin that burned into him, etching a permanent tattoo. Justin thought he was going to come before JC ever touched his cock. And then he did, and, "Jesus _fucking_ Christ," it was good, his hand, stroking and squeezing, tender and quick, knowing just when to speed up and the added stimulus of JC's lips and tongue nibbling his shoulder, holy Christ he had never felt anything like it in his life.

JC breathed in his ear, and that was it, Justin came like a waterfall, warm and helpless into JC's hand, anchored in JC's arms. Shaking, afterwards, he realized he'd said something aloud, but he couldn't remember now what it was. It didn't seem to matter. JC was holding him, licking his neck again, but now it made him giggle instead of tremble.

He remembered that there were tissues in a box on the nightstand, and reached for a handful to clean up after himself. JC helped, smiling, eyes already drooping in the exhaustion Justin could feel creeping to claim him as well. He finished cleaning up, tossed the tissues at the wastebasket -- no game tonight, but not surprising all things considered -- and then turned onto his back so he could see JC before he fell asleep. JC's arms claimed him possessively around the waist. He ran a hand up, into JC's hair, leaned up and kissed him. JC closed his eyes and kissed him back.

Justin fell asleep moments later, pleasantly worn out.


End file.
